The Very Secret Admirer
by Quidditch Anyone
Summary: The dreaded plague of Valentine's Day has hit Hogwarts. Someone has a secret admirer... (not as corny and sappy as it sounds.) Completed.
1. Day of Paper Hearts and Pink Frosting

"The Very Secret Admirer" a cliché, cheese-packed story by Quidditch, Anyone?

  


Day of Paper Hearts and Pink Frosting

  


Urgh. _Valentines'_ _Day_. The day most adolescents await all year so they can tell their little crushed their 'true feelings' and giggle as they hold hands down the corridors. Day of stupid songs and sappy poems. Anything but a day of _real_ love, the kind of love when you start to not notice when your boyfriend burps or the girl you're seeing doesn't seem to care how her hair looks when she's around you. No, the commercial hearts 'n flowers day of dating seems as fake as those Styrofoam cupids that hang in store windows.

  


Most fortunately, another week was left before the plague of Valentines' Day hit the bustling castle known as Hogwarts. Their were many mixed opinions about this. On one side of the case, bubbly girls like Parvati and Lavender were anxiously waiting by marking off days on pink, scented calendars. Then the normals were groaning with less-than-eager knots in their stomachs. Hermione, for once, didn't have much of an opinion. She saw it as just a holiday when the dessert is always something smothered in pink frosting and you are guaranteed to find at least two couples snogging in broom cupboards by noon. Never had she given it enough thought to maybe think that someone liked _her_.

  


"Week left!" piped Lavender as she and Parvati giggled their way into Transfiguration. She spoke to no one specifically, but a few people here and there started exchanging enthusiastic whispers.

  


"Oh, right!" Hermione said. "I've completely forgotten about Valentines' Day!"

  


"And that's a _bad_ thing?" asked Ron.

  


"Why so against Valentines' Day?" asked Hermione with a puzzled look.

  


Ron shifted a little in his seat. "Just, er... an experience, you could say."

  


"Go on, go on... elaborate," Harry prodded with a grin. He loved hearing about the embarrassing events that took place during Ron's wizarding childhood.

  


Ron blushed as pink as Lavender's new fluffy pink quill she just pulled out. "Er, nevermind."

  


Hermione smiled. "No need to stop now, Ron. Tell us what sort of, er, traumatic experience you've been through this time."

  


Thankfully, right at that moment Professor McGonagall walked in and transfigured an empty chair into a screeching parrot that squawked "_QUIET!" _to get the class's attention.

  


_Ah, saved by the spell..._

  


When the pupils stopped chattering and the chair regained its original form, Professor McGonagall was free to speak.

  


"As some of you may already know, the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade has planned on hosting its very own Valentines' Day ball, opened to all students and village citizens alike," she began. A few girls squealed and clapped while a couple of males hollered.

  


"However," the Professor's voice rose above the cheers. "We cannot allow you students to attend."

  


You would have thought that she had canceled the entire holiday. Many people just gaped and tried to speak several times, while others stood up with an ear-splitting _"What?"_. Then, of course, were the series of swear-words from the back row.

  


"Please," McGonagall said calmly. "I can assure you that you will all find other ways to-"

  


"Why aren't we allowed to go?" asked Dean from the third row.

  


"Mr. Thomas," she said irritably. "I will ask you _not_ to speak out in class in such a way!"

  


Dean shut his gaping mouth, but still looked sour.

  


"I suppose it is only fair to tell you, however," their teacher said quietly. "that we fear that if too many of you are going, other villagers might complain of the noise. It's one thing having the whole lot of you students here, because Hogwarts is isolated away from private wizarding homes. The problem with having you all go into a bar right in the middle of a town is a completely different story."

  


"Well, not all of us would go. They could sure count me out no matter what," Ron said quietly as he leaned back in his chair.

  


Hermione rolled her eyes and concentrated back on Professor McGonagall.

  


"Now, there will be no arguments, no questions, nothing left to discuss, so get your minds off of that silly dance and focus them on your work, please!"

  


·~··~··~·

  


The Famous Threesome walked down the halls without any emotional-breakdowns. The same couldn't be said for a few girls who had taken the announcement as a death sentence. Well, anyway, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked casually down the corridors on their way to lunch with the V-word far from their minds. That is, until the doors of the Great Hall opened. To their shock, their gag reflexes were put to the test at the sight of a very large cupid sculpture with a large sign reading '7 Days Left' on it, pink goblets and plates on the table, and a variety of heart-shaped food to accompany them. They overheard from a third-year Hufflepuff that this was all due to the fact that Dumbledore felt guilty about not allowing his students to go to the Hogsmeade ball. The term "different surprises every day," was well distinguished.

  


"Just what we need," Ron said, annoyed, as he plucked up a heart- shaped ham sandwich and plopped it onto his rose colored plate as if it carried some horrible love-sickening disease.

  


"I agree," Hermione stated. "Making a huge fuss about such a stupid holiday."

  


  


  


  


I triple-dippy-dog promise that this is NOT going to be one of those fanfics with a second corny ball when Hermione goes with Ron, they fall in love, blah blah, mush mush. The mention of the ball is a very _minor_ part to this fic. The real fluff and squeezy-cheese goodness comes later, so put your assumptions back in your junk drawer of fanfiction thoughts. This is kind of a stupid fic, I know, so don't get your hopes up for another screen play of a Meg Ryan movie or something. In fact, this may become ditch material, so I'd appreciate your deepest, most inner-emotional thoughts.


	2. Sickening Little Love Notes

"The Very Secret Admirer" by Quidditch, Anyone?

  


Sickening Little Love Notes

  


"I'm going to barf," was the first thing out of Ron Weasley's mouth that morning in Potions. 

  


Harry snorted in agreement. Indeed, the now red-and-purple walls of the great hall surrounding a choir of 2-foot high dwarfs screeching horrible love songs off-key all during breakfast was enough to make anyone throw up.

  


Hermione walked in shortly behind. Although she didn't mention how disgustingly sweet the great hall was, her pinched up face basically summed up what Ron had said, too.

  


"Settle down, settle!" Snape droned lazily. He went about explaining the day's work of how to make a Scolding Serum and wrote out their ingredients. Since this potion was extremely easy (they thought that perhaps Snape was also so nauseated with Valentines' Day, he hadn't put much effort into assigning them rather difficult ones), the class was able to chat more than concentrate. They started conversations up straight away.

  


Hermione pulled her textbook out of her schoolbag. Immediately she realized something odd about it- a small, white envelope taped to the cover.

  


Now, every girl's reaction would be pretty much the same. Curiosity would be so overpowering, she couldn't help but to let out an excited squeal or two before viciously attacking the note to rip it off. Still having half of the envelope intact, she would then shake madly as she unfolded her letter and read the sappy (and often misspelled) words of love faster than she could breathe. After reading it, she would repeat the last step at least eight more times at that moment, her prior activity long forgotten. She would not stop reading this note all day and more than likely tack it up on her bedroom wall right next to her favorite Justin Timberlake poster. Receiving this crumpled little piece of paper would be better than getting the Nobel Prize, MTV Music Award, and title of President all in the same day.

  


But Hermione was, of course, different.

  


Her eyebrows raised suspiciously, though not intrigued, like she had just spotted a couple kissing openly in the hall. Then she merely shrugged and opened her book to chapter five.

  


What?!?! This girl had just gotten some major tell-your-best-friend-immediately-and-arrange-a-conference-to-discuss-in-great-detail material!Why wasn't she dancing next to her cauldron right now?

  


Throughout the entire class, the note remained untouched and taped. Hermione didn't show the slightest interest in knowing what the note said at all. What sort of a bomb shelter did she grow up in without cable, prose, or any sort of idea of what a teenager's life was like?

  


·~··~··~·

  


Hours later, Ron, Hermione, and Harry retreated to the Common Room. Snape apparently had not misplaced his sour attitude in the growing piles of fluffy pink carnations and plastic hearts, as he had given the class a monstrous homework assignment. Ron had called him a few gruesome names before they had sat down to work

  


Quills and parchment littered the tabletop before Hermione pulled out her thick Potions book- and the letter.

  


"What's that?" Harry asked as he looked over the pile on the table at her book.

  


She looked at him. "My _Potions book_, Harry?"

  


"No, no... on the cover."

  


Hermione looked at the cover again. "Oh, that." She wasn't embarrassed at all. Not even blushing.

  


Her fingers tore the pieces of tape securing it to the book and folded them neatly over. Then she opened a compartment of her bag that she barely used and slipped the note in there. Out of sight, out of mind.

  


"Well?" Harry looked at her.

  


"I don't know what that was," she said honestly, unrolling a piece of parchment.

  


"Ever thought of maybe _reading_ it, Hermione?"

  


Hermione puffed up suddenly. "No," she stated definitely. 

  


Harry seemed utterly confused. He gave Ron the we'll-never-get-her look and he started on his homework.

  


·~··~··~·

  


_Hmm. Neville? Could be him, just seems the type. Wouldn't be Seamus, or Dean... oh what am I saying? It was a bloody joke! Someone making fun of me just because I'm a-a-fine, a nerd! Horrible people, going out of their way to make others feel bad. Well, at least I can gloat when we take our O.W.L.s..._

  


The class had been going over the main aspects of the Wizarding Council in History of Magic. They had already been over this topic last week, but since Hermione was the only one who passed her test, Professor Binns thought maybe another week of it couldn't hurt. Since she wasn't taking the test again, she allowed her mind to wander all during class. How very unHermione. But then again, so was constantly thinking of who sent her that note. She was extremely good at hiding her feelings, and was actually getting good and putting them as far back in her mind as possible. The only problem was they would only go back so far, and before she knew it they would surface and taunt her. But nothing- _nothing_- would make her read that note.

  


  


  


  


More poetry!

  


I go to school there everyday,

Yet it still seems to amaze me.

Walking down the halls they say,

"Darling, thy complete thee!"

Well, maybe not quite like that, they remark

(Rather in jive, they really bark)

But, anyway, it means the same,

That teenage couples are just so lame.

  


Dedicated to a boy who just talked to me, trying to get me to tell my friend he likes her. In a week, he'll dump her and go for someone else. Sad, really, what a pathetic world we live in.


	3. Rebellious Young Teenagers

"The Very Secret Admirer" by Quidditch, Anyone?

  


Rebellious Young Teenagers

  


The plan: recklessly going to the ball at the Three Broomsticks, whether teachers approved or not. The problem: the students at Hogwarts were all a bunch of brainless gits who had no idea how to crash a party, nor rebel against fully-grown teachers equipped with wands that would hex the pants off them. So, operation Screw Rules didn't get off the ground much. However, the unbearably clever Weasley Twins and Lee Jordon hatched another plan that would suffice.

  


"Out by the lake, Friday night! They can't get us for holding the ball out on the grounds!" Fred exclaimed at breakfast.

  


"Yeah, and we can stay out as late as we want! No curfew on Friday evenings!" George reminded Gryffindors as he sprinkled cinnamon on pink oatmeal.

  


Only problem was, dress robes and sappy music wasn't very appropriate if the lot were out on the muddy grounds with bugs and lack of a dance floor. But that was not really a problem, because adolescents always preferred punk to piano and casual to costly. It made it more far likely that couples would start snogging openly and wearing skimpy clothes- two of the most important elements of teenage life. So the elegant Valentine's Day Ball had suddenly turned into a mosh pit of daft party goings. Perfect, wouldn't you agree?

  


·~··~··~·

  


_God, how can she just_ sit_ there? So calm and relaxed, probably not even thinking of that note I sent her. I can't believe I just sat there and watched her shrug at it in Potions. I should have walked right up to her, ripped it open in front of her face, and read it out loud so she wouldn't miss a word of it. Now, calm down. Maybe she has good reason not to read it. Like she has a boyfriend or something. But shouldn't I have noticed? Maybe not. Oh, God, she's reading again. Maybe if I just pasted it in a page of one of her books, then she would have to read it. Probably think I was an ass, though. What sort of guy writes little notes to girls, anyway? Probably not any sort_ she_ would like. Stupid prat, I am._

  


Mr. X. let the spoon plop into his oatmeal while watching Hermione absentmindedly. His friends asked if he was okay, since he wasn't eating, but he just claimed he was still tired. Not a complete lie- he was tired of being so stupid as not to tell her. Just forget about it, Mr. X. She likes someone else, anyhow.

  


·~··~··~·

  


"Happy Valentine's Day!" squealed Parvati and Lavender in unison.

  


Hermione groaned and squirmed under her warm bed covers as she was showered by the screams of her roommates.

  


"Come_ on_, Hermione! It's Valentine's Day and we_ need_ to be down at_ breakfast_ right_ now!_" Lavender whined as Parvati started bonking the lump of Hermione with a fluffy pink pillow. 

  


"Wake me up tomorrow. When the sanity's back and all is well again," Hermione mumbled into her bed.

  


The two other girls groaned and ripped the covers off her. She growled in an annoyed sort of way as she reached for her blankets again. Instead, Lavender grabbed her outstretched arm and wrenched her out of her sleeping position and onto the floor. 

  


"Honestly, we don't know how you can sleep in on a day like today!"

  


"It's not like it's bloody Christmas! Nothing life-altering will take place, I can assure you." Hermione started looking around for her dressing gown. 

  


"Well, something_ might_ happen," giggled Lavender. "There's a chance of getting a_ love letter!_"

  


Hermione rolled her eyes all the way to the bathroom. 

  


·~··~··~·

  


Most professors had plainly given up on trying to hold the attention of their students. More reasonable ones like Professor Sprout used the unusable class period to catch up on her romance novel, and Flitwick started sorting through the counter-charms that would make flowers stop blooming out of the suites of armor for the end of the day. Meanwhile, the female students took the time to magically color their nails and compare notes on what to wear that night. Boys were still discussing who they would ask to attend the Weasley's Pimpin' Pink Party with them. Even Ron and Harry were participating.

  


"I still think I'll go alone. You know, keep my options open," Ron said as he scanned the sea of girls while running a hand through his hair.

  


"Oh, _please_. You wouldn't have the guts to ask a girl out if you wanted to," Hermione said as she poured over her Herbology book. Personally, she thought that wasting the day of classes for something as stupid as Valentine's Day was something that should not only morally offend her, but everyone else in the free world as well.

  


Ron blushed and looked disapprovingly at her, but stopped quickly and continued to physically assess the chicks.

  


"I don't know why anyone would go to that thing anyway. I'm staying in to study," she said as she turned a page.

  


"Hermione! Would you for just one night grow up and stop being such a snooty bookworm! Just go to the bloody dance!" Ron exclaimed. 

  


"Why do you care? I probably would just cramp your style, anyway," she told him. She was only being half-sarcastic.

  


"Because you're our friend and you have to be there. Right, Harry?"

  


"Yeah, I think you should go," Harry agreed. Then he smiled. "I don't think one missed night of studying will cause such great damage to the Brilliant Hermione Granger."

  


·~··~··~·

  


The music was loud, the food horrid, and the teenagers pathetic. This was one sorry excuse for a night out, decided Hermione.

  


Ron edged his way out of the crowd to the spot where Hermione stood with her arms crossed and eyes glued on her watch. 

  


"Come and have some fun for a change!" he panted over the noise.

  


"No. I told you, I'm leaving in three seconds." she looked him in the eye with pure boredom plastered across her face.

  


"_Hermione!"_

  


"You know, every time you say my name like that, it makes me want to do the opposite of what you are requesting more and more," she snapped. She checked her watch once more and declared, "I'm going."

  


"Just stay for a minute! It's not any fun without you!" Ron pulled at her sleeve.

  


"You know, before you hated this stupid holiday. Why are you so excited about this thing now, anyway?"

  


"Because before it was some stupid thing were you had to dress up and be all fake and idiotic. Now it's... well, it's fun!" Ron smiled.

  


"No it's not," Hermione proclaimed. However, Ron's innocent smile seemed to be contagious. Soon she was grinning at her own stubbornness and how easily a stupid freckled-faced boy could make her do this. "Fine! I'll stay. But I'm sitting in a corner and not dancing with any lunatic that asks me. Okay?" 

  


"Okay with me!" He pulled her over to the party.

  


She kept her word. While everyone else was dancing under the canopy of string lights draped over wooden beams that had been magically set up, she sat impatiently in a corner with a butterbeer and Ron by her side. He was nodding his head to the music and tapping his foot, like he would much rather be getting into the festivities with everyone else. Hermione felt bad we was just sitting here with her, as she often did. Many times she thought Ron would have a far more exciting life and a bunch more friends if he always didn't sink back into the shadows with her. She was very grateful for this, but felt guilty none the less.

  


"If you want to go dance, I'll be fine here," she told him. He just shook his head and took a sip from his bottle.

  


"No, really. It's not you're fault I hate dancing. Go with Harry and them. I know you'd rather."

  


Ron looked at her. "What makes you think that?"

  


He was such a liar. A sweet, caring, considerate liar, but still a liar. 

  


"I'm going," she said very finally and stood up. Ron followed suite.

  


"Then I'm going, too."

  


She blushed. "No, stay here. I'm sorry, Ron, but parties just aren't for me." Hermione stared toward the castle, but Ron followed like a dirty little puppy that follows after you feed it scraps of toast. 

  


"_Ron!_"

  


"Stay!"

  


"No!"

  


"Please?"

  


"No!"

  


"But we want you to!"

  


"I said, _no_, Ron. Please, don't feel bad for me. Just go and have fun and pretend I'm on vacation or something. It'll be more fun for us both." She turned on her heel and walked again. "Stupid, bloody Valentine's Day," she muttered quietly to herself.

  


  


  


  


Okay, I was working on one of my other story's chapters, and I saved it okay and everything, but then when I went to open it again I guess I screwed up somehow because the file was totally blank. Grrr!!! Ever since then I've just been in a very anti-fanfiction mood. I'm sorry for being so pessimistic, but that chapter was really good and I'm upset. To add the pink frosting on the sugar-loaded cupcake, I have this huge project due, my math teacher is awful, and another teacher of mine hates me and probably thinks I'm an airhead because I didn't know the one question I had even though I literally knew the answer to everything else he asked during that class. Sigh. This has not been a good week for QA. Hopefully Monday will get better. In the meantime, please be a nice person and review. For the poor. For the sick. For the hungry. For the ticked off. For me.


	4. Wrapping Up The Plot

"The Very Secret Admirer" by Quidditch, Anyone?

  


Wrapping Up The Plot

...In Pretty Pink Foil, Of Course

  


Hermione stepped into the warm Common Room and let the silence and darkness wrap her up in its subtle welcomeness. Such a relief it was to be away from horrible parties and love notes and Ron.

  


Speaking of Ron...

  


"Oh, bloody! Why d'you have to come follow me, eh?" Hermione scolded as the portrait hole opened again and revealed a figure with red hair.

  


"Because, like I already told you, I wanted you to stay. It's no fun with you there, really," he said honestly.

  


"Oh, right," she mocked herself. "Real fun, I am, sitting alone and snapping at everyone who talks to me."

  


"So why don't you just come and dance with everyone else?" he asked reasonably.

  


"Because," she said uncertainly, shifting her weight. "No one really wants me there anyway."

  


"Are you daft or something? I-want-you-there!" Ron said loudly and clearly.

  


"Well," she waved his claim aside. "I mean, not anyone that matters."

  


Ron turned red and locked his jaw oddly. "I don't matter, do I?"

  


"I-I didn't mean it like that!" she said quickly. "I just mean no one would, let's say, want me to be their date."

  


"And who said I _didn't_?" Ron asked in the same tone, this time with his arms crossed.

  


Hermione stared at him and actually let this hit her ears. "Yeah, right, Ron..."

  


Ron put on an odd expression never seen by her before. He looked like he was seconds away from running away, blushing, screaming, whispering, and confessing something all at once. This could only mean one thing. That's right, teenage movie confessions at proms and make-out points.

  


"Hermione, did you ever read that letter you got?" he asked her.

  


She blushed and started tucking bushy strands of hair behind her ear. "No. No, of course not. Why would I read such a stupid thing?"

  


Ron sort of half-smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, guess you're right," he started for the door.

  


"_Wait!_" Hermione hollered. Oh, come on! She wasn't stupid! To her he had already confessed that he sent that stupid piece of parchment to her! He wasn't getting away that easy.

  


"Ron... Ron," she stuttered. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

  


He smiled mischievously. "Well, all right then."

  


Leading her over to the couch, he sat with her face-to-face. "You know how I said I had an, er, bad experience with Valentine's Day?" His eyes weren't only laughing, they were cracking up. "Well, when I was real little, Mum made me dress up as cupid during one of her parties," he finished quickly.

  


Hermione stared at him. Then she fell over with giggles. "She did _what_?"

  


"Yeah, I know!" Ron blushed. "In diapers and everything..."

  


It took a few minutes for Hermione's laughter to die down. Then she came back to reality, thinking of how cupid-boy was supposed to be telling her about the note.

  


"Well, actually, Ron, I was... I was wondering if you knew anything about that note I got," she asked timidly, her fingers intertwining with each other.

  


Ron's smile died away. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Well, er,"

  


She swallowed.

  


Ron rolled his eyes and sprang up suddenly. "I sent it to you, all right?" he screamed at her. She smiled smally as he rambled on for a few minutes. Something about how he wanted to tell her he liked her at the ball, then the ball got canceled, then she didn't read the note, then _another_ ball was taking place... on and on.

  


"Okay, Ron? Will you shut up a second?" she interrupted.

  


He stopped with his mouth still open. "_What_?"

  


She grinned. "I like you too, okay? I think you already knew that. As a matter of fact, I think we both have known all that stuff for, er, some time. So let's just go back to the party, all right?"

  


Ron wasn't really sure how to respond, so for the first time in his life, he did what Hermione said and, indeed, shut up.

  


  


  


  


Aww, they finally get it. Excuse me, I have to gag... okay, I'm back. I'm really, truly sorry to all of you who were anxious to read some teary-eyed love note from Ronniekins, but I haven't had too much experience in that area. If you're dying to hear one, then go look up 'lovely' in a thesaurus, get some words that rhyme with 'baby', and randomly type them out in a completely nonsense way on some pink and scented paper. Your girlfriends will love it. Anyway, have an extremely belated- or extremely early, however you look at it- Valentine's Day and I hope you all get pretty flowers and conversation hearts that taste like Plaster of Paris.

  


Lots of Love,

Hearts and Kisses inc.


End file.
